Walk Away From The Sun
by Torimouto
Summary: Because not every eleven year old wants to be the hero.


Disclaimer: It would be funny if J.K. Rowling really sat on the computer and wrote fanfics for her own series but alas, that is not, and never will be me.

Warnings(ish): Written in second person. Also, it might not have accurate canon events due to this authoress not having read the Philosopher's Stone in years and doing this from memory and the movie.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Neglected by your aunt and uncle, bullied by your cousin, starved for love, verbally abused, no one at Privet Drive ever really gave a damn about you, all of them believing you were a delinquent. Maybe a few of them believed otherwise but they didn't help at all, did they? It may not have been outright physical abuse but last you checked, neglect is still criminal and not to mention leave you with mental scars that would take years to recover from. You were raised believing your parents were good-for-nothing drunks and died in a car crash. You were constantly taunted for it by people, one of them related by blood to your mother, so they must have really been bad right? And to think, this had been going on for ten years. You knew this treatment was wrong from seeing how your fellow students were treated by their parents, but what could you do? You were only eleven. So you waited till you grew up to make a life for yourself away from the Dursleys.

But then what's this? Salvation from the Dursleys in the form of a letter written in green ink? The one who explained it was a burly giant that knocked down the door and told you your parents were good people and they were actually _murdered_, you can do physics-defying feats, magic is the reason you were abused for nearly a decade and oh yeah, come with me so you can learn this thing you were so hated for possibly having. Convincing argument, right? But you went with him anyway because this might be that one opportunity to make a life for yourself. It's totally not because it was a chance to have someone in that world to actually care for you. At least, that's what you tried to convince yourself with. So you went with the strange man (thing? Giant?) and ignored the fact that he was painfully dim because he actually treated you with something that wasn't contempt or indifference.

Then you found that everyone in that world knew your name because you were some kind of messiah who got rid of a Big Bad when you were barely old enough to walk. And they told you he was dead. The one who killed your parents had died when he tried to kill you. They practically worshiped you as 'The Boy-Who-Lived'. They may have thought it was clever but it always felt like they were making fun of your orphan status.

_You lived which means __he__ died. __**And your parents died too, right?**_

But you still decided to give this world a try despite your gut telling you that it would just end up crashing and burning.

You met some real friends on the train! Sure, the first asked if he could see the scar from the man that killed your parents and tried killing you and stared at it like some holy relic, and the second started rattling off facts about you from books written by people who've never seen you before, but you ignored all that back then. They were one of the first besides Hagrid to treat you with kindness and in the end, they were one of the only ones you could trust, weren't they? Then you arrived at Hogwarts and the Sorting Hat told you you could have been in Slytherin, but you had wanted to stay with the buck-toothed, awkward but nice girl from the train who went to Gryffindor and was sent there. You made some more friends –_the Weasley twins, Neville_-, somehow ended up with enemies you wanted nothing to do with -_Draco, Snape_-, and thought you would have a fairly peaceful year, didn't you?

Wrong. You and your friends had found a Cerberus of all things on the third floor and, god knows why, Hermione thought the three of you should investigate why it was there. She was your friend though so you helped, however reluctantly. Then the troll, and since he was such a slimy git to you and your friends (and the gash on his leg), you concluded it must have been Snape who released it. The broom jinx was his fault too! But then you had some trouble with the baby dragon, and you received detention in the forbidden forest with Draco and Neville. Well, that wasn't exactly the end of the world then.

But that's where it all started wasn't it?

It was the stupid centaur opening his big mouth and leaving the seed of doubt that sent the metaphorical ball rolling. _They_ told you he was dead didn't they? Why would they lie? But that thing...you couldn't deny not even the slimy git of a potions teacher could terrify you as badly as that wraith did in the forest. And you wondered if they lied about anything else but you waited to think about that later when you were with your friends as they held you as your walls – the ones you worked so hard to build so you could keep some semblance of hope that this world wasn't as cruel as the pathetic excuse of a life you had was – came tumbling down in tears as they held you and you were just falling and falling and nothing was fair and why me, why is it always me...

But when that was done, nothing changed besides a closer bond within the Golden Trio. No one except Ron and Hermione knew anything about your miserable breakdown and there was nothing else you could do besides go back to classes and ignore Ron's ramblings on trying to protect the stone. Yet, the day to protect the stone that you cared nothing about did come after a certain idiotic Headmaster left our school and Ron pronounced that we should save the stupid stone and Hermione _agreeing_ of all things. What else could you do? They've stayed through your breakdown but who's to say they wouldn't have left if you wanted to disagree? So you followed them. The obstacles were easy to get past, but Hermione pulled you away from Ron when he was hurt and you just had to hope he was alright when you went through the next door. Then you got to the riddle and potions, and when Hermione figured that out, you were forced to go on ahead and all you could do was ask her to make sure Ron would be safe and you went through the fire.

It was supposed to be Snape! _He_ was supposed to steal the stone! Why was _Quirrell_ of all people trying to? Then he showed you what was underneath that smelly turban. No, no, no! You accepted that that murderer was alive, but there he was, right in front of you and he shouldn't have been, and you were only eleven, how could you take on a proclaimed Dark Lord if you couldn't even fight your one year older cousin! He murdered your parents and he'll kill you next and there he was, glaring hatefully and there was nothing you could do as he stared into your eyes with his burning red ones. Pain lanced through your mind and suddenly it was like your head was being ripped apart and all of your memories of your life were laid out on a screen playing at high speed and you could only grip your head and-

The images stopped. And you slowly looked up through the remaining pain and saw _him_ staring at you with an unidentifiable expression as he said in that high, cold voice,

_"We are the same."_

And he commanded you to look into his eyes and you couldn't stop the reflex of obeying the Dursleys whenever they yelled at you in that exact tone and looked up...

The screen was there again but it was someone else's life that was being shown to you at high-speed. A small dark-haired boy shivering on his bed in the cold – the same boy getting pushed by older children in an orphanage – discovering he had a special power – finding friends in snakes – getting revenge on those that hurt him – acceptance to Hogwarts, where he wouldn't be alone – finding it was just as despicable as the muggle world – a vow to change it for the better, for the muggle world may be lost but wizards still had a chance for redemption – discovering immortality – the beginning of a descent into insanity – a prophecy – pain – wandering the world as a spirit to gain strength back – Quirrell in Albania – …then everything halted to a stop. And even though you still hated the murderer, unwillingly you felt a sort of bond form between you and the wraith of a Dark Lord.

You looked at the mirror behind him, the magic of it holding your senses as it showed you your parents again, the tall, dark-haired man with unruly locks, the beautiful woman with ruby red hair and green eyes to match your own, and you were startled when _his_ voice speaks again, bringing you out of your reverie, his words nearly stopping your heart.

_"I can bring them back from the dead to be with you. That is, if you join me in my cause."_

You know you had no reason to trust him any further than you could throw him, but your logic seemed to forget that you were a neglected, starved for love, eleven year old child who had faced more danger in one school year than others have their whole life. The parents you never knew were right there staring at you lovingly in the mirror. And _he_ was saying he could bring them back.

.

_Huh, now that you think about it, is it any wonder that you're currently standing next to the Dark Lord Voldemort with Ron and Hermione standing (uncertainly) at your backs (exchanging looks unknowing to you and Voldemort), watching as the wizarding world burned at your feet?_


End file.
